Hand Behind the Flame
by StolenPride
Summary: This is the story of Maysilee Donner, the original Mockingjay. The hand that ignited the flame of the Girl on Fire.


**Hand Behind the Flam**e

"Maysilee! Maysilee, wake up! Please!" Cold hands shake my shoulders urgently. I roll over onto my side, swatting away the bony fingers.

"Shut up, Marilee." I growl. "Its Sunday." That earns a irritated scowl.

"May, come on." she pauses to dwell on something. "Its Reaping Day."

I prop myself on my elbows and glare at my sister. She's already dressed in her Reaping outfit. She looks nice, which is good since she's probably been up for forever. She hates Reaping Day, even if we don't have a chance of getting picked. She's wringing her hands, grey eyes wide in fright.

"I was trying to sleep in." I tell her stubbornly, swinging my legs out of bed. Marilee steps back and hands me a white dress.

"I don't care. Here, put this on." I take it reluctantly, still looking at her questioningly. She looks away, blond hair curtaining her face.

"Marilee, you don't have to be scared." I try and reassure her, touching her arm lightly. She bites her lip and her shoulders slump in defeat.

"I can't…I'm just…scared." she confesses. I had already guessed that, but I don't say anything. My twin sister is so always to read. Its not only our 'magical' twin connection either, she blatantly expressions her feelings.

"I promise nothing bad will happen," I say, hugging her. "We only have like four of our names in there. Jon Everdeen has like forty." I lie, but it would make sense. That's all Carrie ever talks about any more is her precious Everdeen. I slip on the dress and thrust a brush into my sister's hands, "Here, can you braid my hair?"

Marilee nods absently, and we both sit down on the edge of my bed. Her fingers are quick and sure as they braid my hair down my back. I turn to thank her but she opens her mouth instead.

"I think I'll relax." she says confidently, lips pulled into a smile.

"Promise?" I ask her, raising an eyebrow.

She laughs, "Yeah. Promise."

"Girls! Time for breakfast!" Our mother shouts from down the stairs. We share a knowing glance and both head downstairs. Breakfast sends an aroma of pancakes. They're made out of potatoes of course, but there not all that bad. Real flour is too expensive. I sit down at the table across from my sister.

"You look nice today, girls." she compliments us, setting down our plates and glasses of goat's milk. I take a sip, nerves making my appetite shrink. I know I told my sister it would be alright, but there is more of a chance for us to get picked. Since it's the Quarter Quell the Capitol decided to add a 'new and special' twist. Which meant picking two boys and two girls from each District instead of the original one.

"Thanks." I mutter, not really taking her praise. It was just small conversation to get our minds off of today. Our parents were just as scared for us as we were.

Marilee swallowed. "What time does it start?" she already knew what she was talking about, because the Reaping was the same time every year. I stare at her, trying to figure out why she'd bring it up.

Mom sighs, "Noon." she answers simply, scrubbing away at a dish and acting like it was the most important thing in the whole world. I finish my plate deadpanned, and give it to my Mother to wash. She usual forces me to wash my own plates, but today she takes it without saying anything.

Marilee takes her time eating like the food is paste in her mouth. I pace the kitchen, fidgeting with the buttons on my dress and taking forever on finding the right shoes even if I only have one nice pair to choose from.

Everyone drags their feet today. The gong rings out over the town and is met with silence. it's the start of the Reaping. Marilee reaches down and folds her fingers over mine. I squeeze her hand comfortingly.

"Girls, wait." We turn around, confused. Its our Dad. We haven't seem him this whole morning. He hates the Reaping more than anyone we know.

"Me and my mother have something for you." He announces, holding out his hand. Something gold glints in his palm. I share a quick side-ways glance at my sister and then cross the room to see what he has.

"Its sort of a present." He says grimly, pinning a badge on each of our dresses. I look down when he removes his hand. On mine, a bird Is stretched out in flight, an arrow clamped in its mouth. I take a moment to admire it, letting it glisten in the morning light. On my sister's there is a fawn, long legs sprawled out and its head dipped.

"Thank you." we say at the same time. Our parents nod and then remind us we best be going before we got in trouble.

"Marilee! Maysilee!" We both know who it is before the face appears with the voice. Its Carrie Fisher, our best friend. She matches our long strides and continues, "May the Odds be Ever in Your Favor." she mimics Effie trinket's high pitched squeal perfectly. We laugh half heartedly, despite the occasion.

As we walk into the town square, the room to move becomes clustered. Hot bodies press against us as kids shuffle forward to be separated into sex and age division. We are all holding hands so tightly our knuckles are paper white. We must have arrived late, because as soon as we cram into the crowd, Effie starts talking.

"Today we will choose one courageous man and woman to represent District Twelve in the 74th Annual Hunger Games."

A soft clap comes from the Capitol people behind her. The rest of District Twelve stares on blankly, eyes glued to the glass bowls appearing behind Effie. The bowl is filled with white tags, four have my name on it. Four have my sister's. Ten have Carrie's name on it. I hold my breath.

"As always, ladies first!" Effie exclaims, smiling broadly. There is not a single solitary sound as she plunges her perfectly manicured hand into the bowl and draws out a name. "Helen Jones!" she reads the name. I know the girl, but not personally. She's only twelve. This is her first Reaping, and she got picked. The crowd parts as she stumbles forward, eyes rimmed in red. I see my sister's shoulders straighten a bit. I can't help but admit my do too. We were spared for this one, but one more name has to be called for the girls.

Effie fishes out another white tag. She strips open the tag, and clears her throat.

"Maysilee Donner."


End file.
